


at his lord's feet

by aizensosuke



Series: Kinktober 2018 [25]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boot Worship, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 19:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16414688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizensosuke/pseuds/aizensosuke
Summary: grimmjow makes a mess of aizen's boots.





	at his lord's feet

Kneeling at Aizen’s feet in the privacy of Aizen’s personal quarters is something of a routine for Grimmjow now, the only assured way to relax and unwind after another long day or even just a stressful mission. It should embarrass him how it only takes a crook of Aizen’s finger and a command to undress and kneel before him to make him hard but when he spreads his thighs for Aizen’s inspection, chin lifted and cock already jutting up from the blue tufts of his pubic hair, Grimmjow is at peace. It feels almost second nature to be here before Aizen.

“What a pretty kitten I have,” Aizen says, and Grimmjow thinks it almost sounds like he’s gloating over himself when his foot brushes up the inside of Grimmjow’s thigh. “How lovely you look on your knees for me, Grimmjow. How was your day?”

The small talk is part of the routine so Grimmjow feels no frustration, frowning just a little at the brush of Aizen’s foot between his thighs. Something feels… Off. “Fine. Ulquiorra and I completed our mission successfully.  _ When _ can I kill Nnoitra?”

“Oh, my love. You must be so frustrated when I know you hate him so much.” Aizen’s fingers trace over the line of Grimmjow’s Hollow mask, tracing over the fangs of it with a fond smile. His foot shifts once more, running down Grimmjow’s other thigh. It widens his stance a little, though not painfully, so Grimmjow does not mind it.

“A little, Sir.” Grimmjow swallows hard when Aizen’s fingers slip beneath his chin, thumb stroking over his lower lip so tenderly, so easily.

Then Aizen sits back, depriving Grimmjow of his touch. “You’re hard already, you must be anxious to come. I know how much you struggle and claw to hold orgasm for me.”

Grimmjow makes a confused sound up at him, his brows furrowed. “Sir?”

It’s no secret that Grimmjow does, in fact, struggle to hold his orgasm until Aizen allows him to experience it, but Aizen will keep him going for hours on end without a kind word thrown in his direction unless he’s doing a satisfactory job. To hear Aizen acknowledge such a thing at all sets him on edge and makes him wonder what Aizen has in store for him this evening, anticipation bubbling in the pit of his stomach. The breath feels punched from his lungs when Aizen’s foot brushes along the side of his cock, and finally, Grimmjow looks down.

_ Oh shit. _

In place of Aizen’s usual footwear are black leather boots— Grimmjow had missed them walking in, had been too preoccupied to follow Aizen’s command to notice the change and he bets Aizen was betting on such a reaction. Silver stitching to match the silver buckles running up the sides, following the elegant curve of Aizen’s calves, the top hitting right below the knee. They’re freshly-polished from the looks of it, gleaming in the light of the bedroom and tempting all on their own. Grimmjow sucks in a breath at the sight, wonders what game Aizen is playing.

“Come here, Grimmjow.” Aizen beckons once more and Grimmjow shuffles forward, breath itching when Aizen lifts one leg, sets it carefully on his shoulder. “I’ve need of your mouth.”

The clear direction has Grimmjow almost pressed against the chair, hands making quick work unfastening Aizen’s pants so he can free the hard length of his cock. Here, Grimmjow would worship on his knees for eternity, tongue dragging across his lips to wet them before he leans in to take the head in his mouth. He never tires of this— something he thinks Aizen must adore— the meaty taste of Aizen on his tongue, bitter pre-come doing nothing to make the experience less enjoyable for him. It’s all sensation to Grimmjow.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he just licks around Aizen’s cock before taking it deeper in his mouth, a shiver rolling down his spine when Aizen’s fingers sift through his hair, a soft sign leaving his lips. He’s enjoying himself already and Grimmjow is eager to give him more, give him everything he needs. Before he can quite lose himself in the act, he feels Aizen’s leg— the one still between his thighs, shift forward so that cool leather slides against Grimmjow’s cock.

He chokes a little and looks up at Aizen, not sure what that was or what to say.

“If you make me come, then I’ll let you. Quid pro quo, simple as that.” Aizen’s hips lift slightly, sliding another inch of his cock between Grimmjow’s lips. “You like the leather, don’t you?”

It should be humiliating, the idea of rutting against Aizen’s boot to get himself off while the heel of another press between his shoulder blades, his mouth full of Aizen’s cock. Instead, Grimmjow makes a noise of agreement and goes back to work, bobbing his head as he takes Aizen into his throat. Aizen is big, bigger than someone with an ego like him has any right to be, so he stretches Grimmjow’s throat open with every suck and swallow. It’s not bad, though, far from it; Grimmjow likes the weight of him, the heat on his tongue.

He presses the flat of his tongue along the vein that runs the underside of Aizen’s cock, paying special attention to it as his eyes dart up once more. Aizen’s head tips back on a soft moan and Grimmjow’s hips jerk in answer, his cock sliding against Aizen’s boot once more. The leather is soft and supple and an interesting texture even if the coolness makes him want to back off.

“Good kitten.” Aizen’s fingers tighten in his hair, thumb brushing over his temple when Grimmjow sucks particularly hard, the bitterness on his tongue increasing fractionally. “Your mouth is heavenly, Grimmjow. It’s too bad you’ll never know how good it feels.”

He could tell Aizen he doesn’t need to know, that pleasing Aizen is enough for him. That what Aizen gives him is  _ more _ than enough, but he settles for devoting himself to Aizen’s pleasure instead. His head bobs faster, his throat open and he knows if he touched it, he could feel it stretching around Aizen’s cock and the thought makes him moan.

The vibrations have Aizen gasping, hips bucking against Grimmjow’s face as the sensation travels up his cock. Grimmjow slurps louder around him and Aizen’s leg rocks between his thighs, rubbing the length of his boot against Grimmjow’s cock. It finally starts to warm against his skin and Grimmjow whines softly, grinding against it in earnest with Aizen’s movements.

“That’s my good kitten.” Aizen holds him still by the hair, the heel of his boot digging into Grimmjow’s back enough to hurt, and fucks his mouth until Grimmjow’s eyes roll back in his head, his tongue moving more on instinct than anything else.

He’s prepared when Aizen finally groans and spills hot and salty in his mouth, throat swallowing reflexively as he licks Aizen’s cock, determined to clean up the mess he’s made of his Lord. Aizen moans softly and pets down the side of his bare face, fingers wiping away a slick spot of drool and Grimmjow chokes a little at the tenderness of the touch.

“Come Grimmjow,” Aizen says, and Grimmjow seizes with the command.

Too wrapped up in pleasing Aizen, he hadn’t even noticed how desperate he was, how hard, how close to orgasm until Aizen’s words bring it all to a head. Grimmjow groans, mouth slipping off of Aizen’s cock as his hips jolt forward, the force of the climax and the pleasure washing over him making it hard to think. Aizen’s hand is still in his hair, holding him in place.

“Very good. I’m pleased with you.” Aizen slips his leg off of Grimmjow’s shoulder and the missing weight makes his brain feel fuzzy. “But you’ve made a mess of my boot, haven’t you?”

Grimmjow leans back and looks down, unsurprised to see his own semen splashed across the shiny black leather. “Fuck, Sir. I’m— I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry—”

“Hush now, my lovely cat. I was the one who goaded your orgasm, was I not?” Aizen’s fingers slip into his mouth, silencing his apology, and Grimmjow blinks up at him as he shyly curls his tongue around Aizen’s fingers. “Good. You’ll just have to clean them up, that’s all. Easy.”

When he removes his fingers, Grimmjow licks the spit off of his lips. “How do I do that?”

“Your mouth was more than suitable to cleaning me up, was it not?” Aizen rests his chin on the back of his own hand, peering down at Grimmjow through the heavy black of his lashes. “I think that would do the trick. No worries, Grimmjow, they  _ were _ very clean. You won’t get sick.”

Aizen is asking Grimmjow to lick his boots.

If it was anyone else, Grimmjow never would have done it. As it is, he sinks down to his hands and knees, unable to miss how beautifully the boots frame Aizen’s legs, how gorgeous they look. He wonders if he could talk Aizen into wearing them and nothing else, his entire body shuddering at the image before he runs the flat of his tongue over the top of Aizen’s foot.

The leather is strange to the taste, not unpleasant. The texture is buttery smooth against his tongue and Grimmjow moans at the way it feels against his tongue, so different from Aizen’s skin. But he’s obedient when it comes to Aizen and expertly cleans the surface of his boot, tongue tracing over the rounded toe, delving around the straps binding the leather to his skin. He even licks over the buckles, cold against his lips, until they warm under his tongue.

Curiosity gets the better of him and he drags the very tips of his teeth over the toe before he wraps his lips around it, peering up at Aizen as he does. Those dark eyes are nearly black now and he doesn’t hesitate, pushing his boot further into Grimmjow’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue until Grimmjow’s jaw aches and the corners his mouth throb. He chokes a little and only then does Aizen abate, letting Grimmjow lap at his boot to his heart’s content.

Careful hands curl around the back of Aizen’s calf and he lifts his leg just enough that he can lick up the sides of the boot, the supple leather left slick and shiny from his tongue. Once he reaches the top of it, he leans back on his knees, panting softly. His tongue is sore.

“What a good kitten you are.” Aizen’s purr sends a violent shock through Grimmjow’s entire body and he mewls softly in answer against his own desires. “Come up here and sit on my lap.”

The offer is one Grimmjow takes immediately, clambering up onto Aizen’s lap like he’s more animal than person, straddling Aizen’s lap with his legs spread wide by the arms of the chair. It should hurt but it doesn’t and Aizen laughs, hands sliding around to grip Grimmjow’s thighs, pulling him closer until the two of them are flush together. It’s obscene, Grimmjow naked against Aizen’s fully clothed body, his own exposed skin his cock.

“You like these boots,” Aizen muses and Grimmjow huffs in answer, rubbing his face against Aizen’s own like a cat desperate to scent mark what belongs to it. What it sees as its own. “I’ll have to wear them for you more often. Imagine one planted on your chest.”

Grimmjow whines at the thought, the sole digging into his scarred skin while Aizen bears down on his weight. “Fuck, please, Sir. J-just… Wear just the boots sometime.”

“What a naughty kitten you are, thinking such things.” Aizen runs the pad of one finger lightly down the center of Grimmjow’s nose until he purrs, wiggling in Aizen’s lap at the sensation. “I can do that for you if you promise to behave for me. Consider it your next reward for a job well done, so you’ll have to do your hardest to succeed for me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Grimmjow says without a second thought.

He’s still purring when Aizen cups his face gently to kiss him.


End file.
